Well that's super!
by BadWeather Girl
Summary: "It was going to be an interesting day. A very interesting day. Like all Tuesday's are" He paused for drama. "Mav, stop monologing! only bad guys do that! Also there is a robbery at the bank and it has some nasty company," "You're telling me this now? I'm facing off with freaking batman!" "well...that's super!" Came the sarcastic reply.
1. Chapter 1

I never wanted to be a hero. Sure, when I was a kid, being a firefighter or a cop or a superhero seemed like obvious career choices. Who wouldn't want to save people? Arrest the bad guys? Be revered from every corner of the world for keeping people safe?

I never wanted to be a hero. It was never something that I wanted to do. I much preferred staying inside, reading books and letting my imagination do the traveling. And after I found the internet, that was what I preferred. There was so much I could learn at my fingertips, all it would take is a few taps, and off I could go, awed by what's possible with human ingenuity.

Of course, there was the dark side of such freedom, namely that others also had the same freedom, and instead of adding to it, poisoned it with opinions best left centuries ago when a heart-attack was considered being cursed by a witch.

And I see the face of the girl, I pretty much sacrificed myself for. She's not okay, her face marred with sadness and tear tracks will kill anyone's looks, but she's beautiful. Wide brown eyes, soft blonde hair and cheeks that make me want to go 'awww'.

There's a brief flash, and fleeting moment of pain, like having a band-aid ripped off, and then…

There was a body on the floor.

* * *

 _This is Alexis Snow with the Soul City News. In the last few weeks there have been repeated reports of criminal being completely eradicated with strategic precision. According to Soul City Police Department, the acts were committed by a single individual that most likely possesses unique armor and weapons making them unidentifiable._

 _Eye witness reports from the survivors of the attacks state that the individual in question, 'moves like a ghost and is unaffected by any type of known weapon'._

 _There have been five attacks that have only left a handful of survivors who had the right state of mind to surrender. It is also known that any and all civilians involved were not harmed in the slightest from whoever is committing the attacks. If anything based on the police reports, this individual has in fact placed civilian welfare as a first priority._

 _Police sketch artists, with the aid of witnesses, have created and released this image of the vigilante responsible for the attack on the mercenary groups._

 _An image of a black armored man appeared with a silver grey visor standing tall. "Police has given the unknown vigilante the name 'Maverick', for his so called 'disregard for the laws put in place and for taking the law into his own hands._

 _On a personal note, this journalist has to wonder; is this 'Maverick' such a bad person? He has put his life on the line to ensure than dangerous individuals are stopped before they commit dangerous acts against the public here in Soul City. Doesn't an average citizen have the right to defend their fellow person?"_

 _For now all we can do is watch and wait. This is Alexis Snow with the Soul City News."_

Detective Inspector Jake Matthews switched off the tv before turning and looking at all of the officers and detectives gathered around him. "I want to know, who the hell released this to the press!" he roared to the room making several rookie cops flinch.

"We were suppose to keep this out of the public as much as possible. Now everyone on the station will be looking at this man as some kind of a hero." said the Inspector as he put his hands behind his back. "He is not a hero. This 'Maverick', is a vigilante. There are laws in place for a reason. A citizen cannot take the law into their own hands simply because they think it is right."

Matthews looked at each of them for a moment, "I want this man found. I want him brought in and booked. I want to know where he sleeps, where he eats. I wanna know who is helping him, where he gets his information from, Hell, I even wanna know where he goes to the gents. And for Gods' sake don't let anymore information make it to the press." With that the meeting came to an end and all of the officers separated and went back to their jobs.

Detective Travis Wolff stood with his back to the wall with his arms crossed, "Six weeks, and this guy's got a reputation that's on par with a handful of The Justice League." Travis muttered shaking his head from his spot next to his fellow detective. Todd turned his head to Travis.

"Your niece Esme has a reputation that's on par with the Justice league." He muttered still bitter over an encounter with his friends niece. Travis smiled.

"She promised she'd fix your phone, she did. She only...added a few extra things,"

"She placed me on a transsexual dating website!"

The inspector finished his rant turned to them, "Wolff, Todd, any leads on this guy?" Travis shook his head, "It's like the eye witness reports have said. The man's a ghost. Comes in, deals with whoever did wrong, if there is a gang he destroys their operations, and vanishes without a trace. His suit is nothing seen in any military or corporation. Whoever he is, he's got his hands on some very powerful toys."

The Inspector nodded handing the evidence back to the detective, "Do what you can. And keep me posted when something new comes up. What is this freak up to?"

He was oblivious to the world as he lay curled up in soft warmth. Only the low dim of the sun through the window made him aware that morning had arrived.

"Grey … Grey ... Grey Thomas Scott!" A yell amplified the sounds of the dim tenfold, and the sensation that his warmth was quickly leaving rushed over him. Much to his annoyance, he realized that someone was pulling his blanket.

"….What?" he groggily groaned, screwing his eyes shut and reclaiming as much of his blanket as he could.

"Get up now! You're running late for the bus rush as is, but if you don't get moving now all hell's gonna break loose," came the reply along with a tug on his blanket, though to no avail. Grey already had a tighter hold on it than his opponent.

"….Whose trying to destroy the foundations of the society that prevents me from enjoying sleep this time, Esme?" Grey growled though it came out as more of a yawn, before successfully landing a gentle yet swift kick to Esme's fisted hand which held his blanket and resulting in the tugging of his covers cease. Once again his sheets were in his possession again, he rolled over.

"High School!"

"Please, let me die," he mumbled into the pillow.

"Well you shouldn't have stayed up late last night, what were you doing anyway?" She climbed on top of the mountain of blanket sitting on top of him.

He grinned and rolled over, she fell off the bed yelping. "Lady Noire," he mumbled.

"Ah, how is the lovely lady?" Esme managed to pull herself up from the floor.

"In jail," he felt her rise from the floor ready to tackle him. One, two, three, he jumped up making her face plant onto the mattress.

"You suck. Also I need a new computer keyboard. I kinda blew it up, well the keys got jammed if I'm being honest, and then I threw it against the wall, I was having a rage," she mumbled into the bed.

"Okay cool, let's go to school,"


	2. Chapter 2 An interesting day

Esmerelda Lucinda Scott was a strange girl. The teachers at her school either loved her for her brazenness and audacity, or disagreed with her for her sarcastic and rebellious attitude. Most teachers fell into the latter category. Mrs. Feldman, her 8th grade science teacher, was just plain exhausted by her. After all, prodigy child who had skipped three grades are hard to keep occupied for long. She mastered three languages by the time she was seven, could recite Shakespeare off by heart and knew how to play the piano like Mozart.

The Monday after spring break, and all the students in Mrs. Feldman's class were chatting excitedly about what they had done over their break. Esme walked into first period science, late as usual, and with a scarf and hat on, which went against school dress policy. This wasn't an unusual occurrence for Esme.

"Esmerelda," Mrs. Feldman said impatiently, "I must have told you a hundred times that hats are against school dress policy in the building." Why, oh why, thought Mrs. Feldman, did Esme have to put her through this the Monday morning after summer break?!

Esme smirked sneakily-oh, she had something up her sleeve for sure!- and replied: "Mrs. Feldman, are you sure you want me to do that?"

Now, though, the teacher had had enough. "Aaaaand whyyyyy wouldn't I be sure?" she asked, drawing out her syllables. "Because," said Esme matter-of-factually, "my hair is a bit... distracting." She smiled, and she looked like an elf. Sneaky, thought Mrs. Feldman. Sneaky, sneaky, girl.

By now the entire class was captivated, watching the teacher and the rebellious student go back and forth with their bickering.

Mrs. Feldman rolled her eyes. That was just ridiculous, and vain, to boot! "No, now Esme, take the hat off right now, or you have detention!"

Now, Esme seemed happy to oblige, which was strange. Usually, threats of detention didn't even faze that girl a bit! Nor did the threat of more homework.

Esme ripped off her hat, exposing her silky red hair to the class.

Or, previously red hair.

Over summer break, Esme had dyed her hair of electric shockingly bright blonde

Mrs. Feldman thought: Ugh! How had I not seen this coming?

"You know what, young lady?!" Wear the hat, dag nabbit!"

She spun around angrily, and started writing on the chalkboard and ignoring Esme. Chips of chalk flew around the class from the ferocity of her writing.

Esme perched her scarf back on her head victoriously winking, knowing that she had 'won', to the awed stares of her incredulous classmates.

It was going to be an interesting day.

* * *

Barbara Gordon was busy. She had research to do on three tests that had to be completed yesterday! As such, her attention was focused into a narrow beam of what she needed to know and what could wait until later. If all went well for one of her tests, she knew that the top mathlete in Gotham City would never live it down.

So, it was a surprise when her phone rang and she looked up at the clock. It was already 8:39am. Breakfast today had been a bagel that she had eaten at the computer, and apparently she would have to work through lunch as well. Her stomach, as if suddenly aware of its neglect now that she knew the time she'd have to work to, protested loudly as she picked up the call.

"Babs? How you doing?."

Pressing speaker, Barbara laid the phone in the crook of her neck as she walked herself into the kitchen. She smiled at the caller even though he couldn't see her. It didn't matter, however, since it was a fact that people could tell whether or not you were smiling through the sound of your voice.

"Hi, D," she grinned. "Just grabbing a late breakfast. Study is real heavy right now, but I have a promising future in maths that, if it pans out and I think it will, should make your job a little harder for a while."

"Now, _there's_ some news I'm delighted to hear," His voice came through so well, it was almost like he was in the room with her.

Barbara frowned. There was something in her friend's voice and the words he chose . . .

"As opposed to news that you didn't want to hear," she asked. "What's up? Why do I get the feeling that you're calling me for a reason?"

His sigh came through loud and clear.

"Have you seen the paper today?"

Barbara blinked. "No. I had a lot of homework, so I didn't take time to read it. Is it bad news?"

"Depends on what you would define as bad, I suppose. You might not even care, it's not exactly relevant to our extra activities" he told her.

"Why don't you just tell me what it is and save me the trouble of looking," Barbara suggested, pulling out the makings of a sandwich and transferring them to the cutting board on her counter.

But she had already located the neatly-folded and neglected newspaper on her kitchen table. She ignored it in favor of her sandwich. Any bad news would still be there when she was finished eating. If it the news were bad enough, reading it first might steal away her appetite. Better to eat first, she decided.

"I'm looking at the paper now, Dad, but I don't see what it is you're referring to."

"I'm actually surprised it isn't front page news," he said. "All considering. That only tells me that the headline itself is unverifiable and unsubstantiated. I could be calling you over nothing . . . except that . . ." his voice trailed off.

"Except that . . .?" Barbara encouraged. "Where is it located, D? I could at least narrow it down to the right section."

"There are pictures," he said. "The pictures make for a pretty good story."

"Di-"

"Politics section. You'll see it right away," her father told her.

Politics? Confused now, she dropped away all the sections back on the table that weren't what she wanted. Armed with the correct section, she shook it out and . . . Gasped.

"What . . .?" If her voice came out a little weak, it could be forgiven her. The headlines were somewhat dramatic.

 _Mayhem of The Maverick,_

 _The local Vigilante of Soul City, known as the Maverick has been known to have associated with_ _repeated reports of criminals being completely eradicated with strategic precision. According to Soul City Police Department, the acts were committed by a single individual that most likely possesses unique armor and weapons making them unidentifiable_...

"Barbara, are you okay?" Her friend's voice sounded concerned.

"I'll have to call you back," she said. "Don't worry, though. They have nothing to do with Gotham."

Barbara stared at the photograph. It was a really good picture, she thought. The being wearing the suit knew what they were doing, they were strategic in their thinking but were they competent? She looked at the article, Lady Noire? Seriously, villan names were getting weirder all the time.

It was going to be an interesting day.

* * *

Grey had been glaring intently at the same spot for at least a minute and a half. Today in P.E. they were climbing rope or something like that. Whatever it was really didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was keeping his body in the air as he hung from the bar about suspended about five or six feet above the ground.

His aim was to hang there for about two minutes, of which he only had fifteen seconds left. He knew he could stay up there much longer than that, _but_ not without risking revealing to the P.E. teacher who he was when the bell rung. Esme would be furious!

A shudder ran up his spin as he let go of the bar, faking that he had cramping muscles and had had enough.

"What'd I get?" Grey asked.

"Two minutes and twenty-two seconds, the best time in the class. _Not bad_ for a fifteen year old kid," reported Mr. Smith happily. Yes his name was actually Smith, John Smith. Esme was convinced he might be a regenerated Doctor who came to this universe because all the teachers were evil vampire creatures... That or she more likely, was sleep deprived after a fifty four hour mission.

He nodded before making his way back to his friends, well friend and his sister. Esme and Issac Hartman, were sitting on the padded seats of the some of Soul City High's fitness center's equipment, waiting for her to return to socializing.

Isaac Hartman was a jock of a kid. By any of the imagination he was athletic, but he _did_ also have brains and had gotten straight C's since preschool. He had brown hair, a face dotted with dimples, and blue eyes that were always looking for facts.

"Cutting it kind of close, aren't we, _Mav_?" Esme asked in a hoarse whisper so that only the three friends could hear. Out of all the people Grey knew and called friends, only Esme and Issac knew his secret. Esme because she'd been there since the beginning, saving his life as always, Johnny because being in a rich Blue blood family as large as his had its disadvantages and the Maverick had gotten him out of many a sticky situation.

"Nah, I'm going to fail or nearly fail the flexibility test next week." He grabbed her water bottle and poured some cool liquid down his back, she growled in annoyance, curls of honey hair that she had put into a small pony tail for class bounced in her growl. "That was mine,"

"Anything interesting happen last night?" questioned Issac. For some reason, Issac was interested in the Maverick's activities, even if quite a few of his relations were trying to uncover his true identity and kept a constant update on Maverick's movements. They were worried that he might dig up... Some unfortunate dealings.

"Nothing much." he shrugged even though a lot of things had happened over the course of the previous night. But he didn't want to talk about it in this particular setting. Esme would kill him, literally!

"Grey, come on, you haven't told me _anything_ about that run, Soul is _never_ uneventful at night, I wasn't on Comms and you rarely run solo," Esme pried. "So, Brother, _spill_ , what happened last night?"

"Nothing we _should_ talk about here," Grey growled at her.

" _Okay_ , so what's on for our plan's for tonight?" Esme asked following Grey. "Is a certain card player going to finally join you? Cause I worked forever on the tech, please don't break my toys," she indicated to Issac, who had for the past few months been training to join Maverick in the field. Two vigilantes were better than one.

"You know, you _two_ are going to either be the reason I end up in jail or joining the League, neither of which looks too good from where I stand," Grey said, beginning to use the exercise as he did so.

"What's _wrong_ with the Justice League? Considering what you do in your free time, you'll probably join them _eventually_ ," said Issac quietly, as a cheerleader passed by making Esme glare at her. "Esme, stop hating the cheer team. And hey, I'll be the drop dead gorgeous sidekick if your join,"

"That is a disturbing image, and I'm _sure_ that I won't mind joining it once I'm ready. But if it happens too fast, I don't think I'll be ready. I am only fifteen," Grey pointed out, grunting as he pulled his own weight. "And would you two be able to assist? You have the best aim from anyone I know, and Esme is...well hacker supreme, and of course, scary smart. I don't think I'd be able to work without either of you having my back,"

"aww thank you," she added a weight block, making him grunt.

"Ah, come on Grey, The young team couldn't much older than you," protested Issac causally.

"Why are we even having this conversation? Here and now of all places, you decide to have this sort of conversation, _why_?" He grunted.

"Alright, alright, on the way back then?" Esme asked, still attempting to get information out of Grey.

"Maybe."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

" _Maybe_ ," He replied, pausing to glare at the two.


End file.
